


i'm taking notes / you're taking me away

by zombiejosette



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: Gen, chilling and eating fries and drinking milkshakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 20:57:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6873037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiejosette/pseuds/zombiejosette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s still nothing more that she wants than to hear it from him, see the memory on his face, stories of places she’s never been (but will go. The places that she’ll go).</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm taking notes / you're taking me away

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on tumblr (@slutshaminghamilton) 4/17/2013

All the places he’s seen, smoky rooms he’s been in, conversations in low tones - he doesn’t have to tell her about them. Audrey already knows. She can see them (him. She sees him), she can replay them in her mind like she was there (with _him_. Like she was there with _him_ ). He sits in the chair by the window while she occupies the foot of his bed, chocolate milkshake held against her knee while her french fries, in some attempt to escape, have wound their way onto his bedspread.

He doesn’t scold her. He listens, but doesn’t talk much (not out of fear, Audrey notices. Knows. She already knows, but because this is for her and if anything it turns the timid butterflies into moths - the large ones she’s seen in science textbooks - birds with beating wings, even). It’s not until there’s a pause and she finally gets in a, “What have you done? Where have you seen?”

Because even though she already knows, can imagine ( _remember_. She remembers him) on dark streets, nothing more than a silhouette in the streetlights, there’s still nothing more that she wants than to hear it from him, see the memory on his face, stories of places she’s never been (but _will_ go. The places that _she’ll_ go).

He only says, “Cities. Towns, just like this one. It’s all procedure,” as though it’s not exciting and daring all the same and it’s not the answer she wanted, not the recollection as his eyes glaze over in remembrance that she expected, but the words leave him and Audrey’s got the answer she needs, the only one she needs, the only one that works - even if she tilts her head and smiles in a dare to say more and is greeted with only a thin smile from him to match.

“I’ve never been out of Twin Peaks,” she admits. It’s somewhat sheepish. She stares down at her own lap before laughing.

“You’ve got time.” He’s as calm as ever, reaching over for a french fry from the pile next to her, all of his original rations having disappeared - the pink of his strawberry milkshake nearing critical levels as well. “And plenty of it, if it’s exploration you’re after.”

With him. The thought rings in Audrey’s mind and she doesn’t blush and doesn’t say it, the silence being her only thanks. Because he respects her and listens while her eyes are bloodshot and her sweater’s stretched over her, loose and oversized around her (and doesn’t say a word as she scoops chocolate milkshake and whipped cream with two french fries - not so much as an arched eyebrow); Audrey doesn’t need to say a word.


End file.
